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It started with the rustle of Koko unlatching a first aid kit and the dim bulb of a lantern faintly lighting up their surroundings. The garage was mostly empty, if not for the stray pieces of furniture — a television set, stray open boxes, and a coffee table sitting before their couple of couches — that he and Inupi had brought in since S.S Motors’ closing.
Koko was ruffling through bandaids and ointments, movements methodical.
Inupi meanwhile was perched next to him, his knuckles bruised and one leg casually crossed over the other.
He had gotten into another fight.
Light bounced off the magenta of his kitten heels.
Koko had been there when it started, right in the alleyway of a nearby convenience store.
They had been passing by another group of delinquents before some guy had taken a crack of an insult at Inupi’s shoes. Without missing a beat, Inupi had then taken a crack at the other guy’s skull, his right hook fast; ruthless. The guy had staggered back. Refusing to lose, his opponent had then flicked out a switchblade from his pocket and lunged. However, it had only left a brief graze against Inupi’s cheek before Inupi knocked him down and left him groaning on the pavement.
The whole thing was brutal; beautiful, in a way.
Koko hadn’t interrupted. He knew better than to interfere when Inupi got like that — like a reactive dog with a bite behind its bark. Plus, he usually specialized in hanging back more and dealing with the aftermath anyways.
That was just how the both of them worked. Inupi had the headstrong ideas while Koko had the practical means to make the other’s dreams happen. Inupi went all in with the violence behind his fists while Koko handled the clean up.
So now, while Inupi was sitting back on the couch with one arm thrown over the backrest Koko was coating a little piece of cotton with some antiseptic.
“You won, of course.” Koko said casually, voice echoing around the empty space. “Before Taiju, you’d never lost a one-on-one street fight.”
He then leaned back and sat up, the box springs squealing slightly underneath his weight. His eyes lingered for a while on Inupi’s shoes, before adding:
“Maybe if you stop wearing heels all the time, people will stop picking fights with you. It makes you look like a girl.”
It was obviously the wrong thing to say, because Inupi visibly bristled at the comment. His head turned, and the glare he gave Koko was downright icy.
“ Don’t call me a girl.” He said slowly; dangerously.
The light from the lantern painted majestic lines over the planes of Inupi’s face.
“Relax, it was just a joke.” Koko put his hands up in surrender to dissolve the tension before leaning forward to reach for the cut on Inupi’s cheek, right beneath his scar. “Jeez. Now hold still, okay?”
The guy had actually gotten a pretty good hit in, his switchblade leaving a line of red against Inupi’s face before he went down.
He carefully dabbed it around the open cut. It wasn’t deep. Just a scratch. Still, Koko treated it meticulously. This wouldn’t be the first time he patched Inupi up like this, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. For someone who didn’t lose the majority of the time, Inupi was pretty reckless.
Still, even with the antiseptic undoubtedly stinging his cheek, Inupi almost subconsciously leaned into Koko’s touch, long eyelashes briefly fluttering shut. In a way, the gesture reminded him of a puppy.
“Careful.” Koko teased lightly as he stuck out his tongue in mock concentration. “If you keep getting all scratched up I’ll start to think you actually like me being all touchy doing this.”
Satisfied with his work, Koko withdrew his hand, and Inupi opened his eyes once more. He then put the cotton ball aside, before closing the lid on the first aid kit.
Something about that statement must have struck a chord with the other, because for a moment, Inupi was quiet, as if thinking about something. It was long enough for Koko to notice.
“…Inupi?” He asked gingerly, tilting his head to the side and letting the chain of his earring sway with a clink.
The air then shifted as Inupi’s fingers wrapped boldly around his wrist, before going on to hold Koko’s palm to his cheek — to the edge of his scar . Inupi’s thumb then lightly brushed over the back of his hand as he settled into the touch.
There was this look on his normally flat face that was indecipherable to Koko. Still, Inupi didn’t break eye contact, looking up through hooded eyes and long blond lashes.
“…maybe I do.” He said seriously, voice pitched lower than usual, letting Koko feel the rough texture of his scar.
The grasp Inupi had on his wrist wasn’t particularly possessive or controlling, but firm nonetheless. It made Koko’s gut feel weird and his back feel hot.
This was dangerous, dangerous territory that they were about to go down, and the longer this went on, the same heat slowly started spreading across his chest, inching up the back of his neck.
Koko was scared, and he was scared to face the fact that his relationship with Inupi was… changing. Had been changing, ever since he had kissed him at the library all those years ago.
If he closed his eyes, he could still envision the smell of old books wafting through the air, and white curtains slowly swaying in the wind.
There was a tension lingering between them now in all their interactions, swirling just beneath the surface but neither one of them wanted to acknowledge or name. Koko saw it sometimes in the way that Inupi looked at him, pale green eyes asking a question that Koko didn’t want to give an answer to.
Did Inupi even know about the kiss? He shouldn’t have since he had been sleeping, which was all different levels of complicated and lowkey fucked up, but Inupi was definitely awake now, his eyes flickering down to Koko’s mouth, even for the briefest moment; even as they subconsciously gravitated closer.
Would kissing him feel like it had so long ago? It was a brief lapse of judgment then, but now Koko knew how Inupi tasted; how the other’s lips felt against his. The atmosphere felt as intimate as it did then.
Koko chuckled a little, trying to withdraw his hand from Inupi’s grip and ease the tension that had grown between them. “Stop messing with me, man.”
Still, Inupi didn’t let go. Instead, he frowned; tilted his head to the side. The ends of his hair brushed lightly against Koko’s skin. It was blond, and so, so soft. It just wasn’t fair.
“What makes you think I’m messing with you?” He mused.
“Because.”
Because they never talked about anything like this. In fact, they never really talked about anything at all.
“You look like you want to kiss me.” He finished.
Koko meant it as a weak attempt at a tease, but Inupi looked off to the side, thought about it, and then looked back. Despite Koko’s words, he didn’t back down or back away.
“Maybe I do want to kiss you.” He confessed bluntly, and Koko’s breath caught in his throat. It may have been in his signature flat tone, yet there was something vulnerable about it too, right underneath the surface.
They were so close now, so close that Koko could count every one of Inupi’s blond eyelashes; feel the heat of Inupi’s breath splashing against his skin; yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.
‘You should only kiss the person you love.’ Akane’s words echoed through his head, always haunting him. He had kissed Inupi before; had seen him there sitting at the window sill on the side of his scar. Did that mean that he loved Inupi? He didn’t want to answer that question.
Koko swallowed, the heat fluttering to his face. Was it out of nervousness? Anticipation? He wasn’t entirely sure. Inupi’s gaze, meanwhile, briefly latched onto the motion before returning to his eyes.
His pulse thundered heavily in his ears, the quiet tension louder than any screaming match, and for a moment, neither of them moved.
When Inupi decided to break the silence once more, his statement was quiet; dull, and his expression was near unreadable.
“Say something.” He said.
And even though his usual tone of voice didn’t waver, his fingers tightened slightly around Koko’s wrist. It wasn’t too hard to discern the plea behind his words.
The thing was, Koko always had the tendency to run away when the situation got difficult or hard to talk about. Whether it was about Akane’s death and his subsequent obsession with money, or his newly developing and frankly confusing feelings for Inupi, he just couldn’t bring himself to face them.
He’d rather deflect the topic instead.
Deflect. Deny. Deflect. Deny.
‘What do you wanna do now, Koko?’ Inupi had asked, clear in his memory. Soft, white flurries floated gently through the night air.
Koko shifted, readjusting his umbrella.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ — Deflect. — ‘I’m sticking with you, of course.’
After a moment, Inupi had turned, the snow crunching underneath his boots and the same unreadable expression gracing his face.
‘Keeping your promise?’ He had questioned further.
‘Hm…’ Koko had hummed in lieu of an actual, proper answer. Then, he stood up to walk away, but not before looking over his shoulder and countering with: ‘…I forgot all about that.’
Deny.
However, right now there was nowhere that he could run or hide.
Koko’s voice came out quieter than he had initially intended. “…I don’t know what to say.”
“Then…” Inupi leaned in, close enough for their noses to brush this time.
Koko’s eyes widened. His lips parted, if not just slightly.
Still, Inupi waited.
“Tell me to stop.” He muttered, green eyes searching. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
Yet, Koko couldn’t. He couldn’t move; couldn’t lie or even speak.
So, as Inupi finally closed the distance, his scar caught the light, and finally — finally their mouths met.
The press of Inupi’s lips against his was warm, if not a little chapped due to the weather; and the whole thing started off rather tentatively, like they were learning each other’s rhythm.
Whereas the kiss at the library had been fleeting, one that had had enough plausible deniability to be considered a mistake or a lapse in judgment, this one… it lingered, refusing to pull away.
At some point, Inupi’s hand met his jaw, cupping it, as Koko’s instinctively found the spot on the nape of his neck.
The kiss deepened, and both of them were clumsy and inexperienced, but still — something like electricity and excitement raced down his spine. Despite himself, Koko had given into temptation, like he was a planet being pulled into Inupi’s orbit.
Maybe he had just been doomed from the start.
When they separated, leaving Koko breathless and chasing his lips for the briefest second, the look in Inupi’s eyes appeared almost pained.
“I’m not her, y’know.” He said, plain and simple, but the words held way too much bitter weight at the same time when they echoed around the empty garage.
I know. Koko wanted to scream, but for some reason, the words refused to leave his throat. I know you’re not her.
That was part of the problem, wasn’t it? Inupi was not Akane, and Koko…? Koko didn’t know what to do with that.
There were a thousand reasons why they should stop here, a thousand reasons why they should go back to that undefined thing that they were — the thing that straddled the line between friendship and just… something else, and honestly, Koko was scared.
However, it still felt like Inupi was giving him a chance; a choice.
So, slowly, Koko brought his hand up to meet Inupi’s cheek once more. And, as they leaned in and their lips met again, he thought that… maybe.
Maybe for just one night, he could have this.